


You're My Soulmate, Aren't You?

by AmableAngel



Series: Hetalia Soulmate Series [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, M/M, Whoop Whoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 00:54:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11886498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmableAngel/pseuds/AmableAngel
Summary: Aaand as usual, you'll have to start from the beginning of the series if you want to know what's going on.*insert usual disclaimer stuff*





	You're My Soulmate, Aren't You?

**Author's Note:**

> Aaand as usual, you'll have to start from the beginning of the series if you want to know what's going on. 
> 
> *insert usual disclaimer stuff*

Francis was sitting at the normal table he always sat in every Thursday, ordering the same thing he always did. A man of habit, he did not often stray from the path he set for himself. He expected Feliciano to come and give his food, but remembering the event that happened a week ago, he didn’t know whether Feliciano was doing okay. 

Elizabeta had called him and said he was doing well with his soulmate, Gilbert’s brother. Francis had thanked her for the information, but he just wanted to see for himself that the man he considered his little brother was actually doing well. 

He frowned, his thoughts turning to Gilbert. They had been very close friends in high school, until his family suddenly moved back to Germany. Then, just as abruptly, he had moved back to the States for no apparent reason. Gilbert refused to tell him or Antonio, and they didn’t question any further. 

Sighing, he rested his face in his palm, turning slightly towards the front door of the restaurant. Antonio and Gilbert were supposed to have arrived by now, but as usual, they was running late. Finally, after what seemed like decades, his two best friends showed up. Panting, they ran over and dropped down in their seats like lead. Francis rolled his eyes as Gilbert smiled, still wheezing. Antonio recovered quickly, but Gilbert was still breathing heavily for a few minutes afterwards. 

“Hello, may I take your order?” the waiter asked. 

“Hi, Tino! How are you today?” 

Tino grinned warmly. “Hey, Antonio! I’m doing good. Now, what would you like to eat?”

“I'll take my usual,” Francis said. 

“I’ll have some garlic bread and water, please. Gil, what do you want?” Antonio turned to his friend, who was still trying to catch his breath. He frowned in concern, placing a hand on his back. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he panted, waving his hand. “I’ll have, um, the same thing Toni’s having.” 

“Gil. It's garlic bread. You hate garlic bread.”

“Oh. I wasn't listening. Water is fine, thanks.” Tino nodded and scribbled down something on his notepad, scurrying back to the kitchen. 

“Sorry guys, I'm going to go to the bathroom for a sec.” Gilbert hurried off without waiting for a response. Francis and Antonio glanced at each other in worry. Gilbert was never like this. He was the best runner in their class, and he shouldn't have been so breathless. But, after all, things do change in fifteen years. Antonio seemed to be thinking the same thing, and relaxed a bit. Gilbert returned after a minute or two and the conversation flowed. 

That is, until Gilbert began coughing. His eyes went wide as he grabbed a napkin and held it in front of his mouth. Francis didn't even notice Gilbert was hacking up blood until he reached for his napkin, only to find it in Gilbert's hands, covered in red fluids. 

“I'm fine, I'm fine,” he choked out, wiping blood dribbling down his chin with the cloth of his sleeve. Francis grabbed a spare napkin and wiped off some leftover blood off of his friend’s face, frowning worriedly.

“What the hell, Gilbert? What is this?” Antonio asked, knitting his brows. Gilbert sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 

“I should explain.”

“Yeah, start from the beginning.”

“Okay, well on February 18, 1988, Gilbert Beilschmidt was born--”

“Gilbert!” 

“Okay, okay, fine. I’ve been in the States for about two months now, right?” They nodded. “I never did tell you guys why I’m here, right?” They shook their heads. Gilbert took a deep breath. “I was trying to hide it for as long as possible, but… I’m sick. I came here for treatment.”

Stunned silence. 

“And when were you planning on telling us?” Francis asked, narrowing his eyes. 

“Sooner or later.”

“‘Sooner or later?’ Gilbert, we’re your friends! We care about you. You should’ve told us!!” Antonio exclaimed, waving his hands around. 

“See, this is what I mean. You guys would treat me different. I wouldn't be Gilbert, I’d be Gilbert, the sick man,” he responded exasperatedly. 

“Still.” 

An uncomfortable silence blanketed the trio and even Antonio, who was normally the mouth of the group, kept his lips sealed. 

“On a side note, I met my soulmate,” Gilbert chuckled weakly. “Her name’s Lizzie-- I mean, Elizabeta.” 

“Your soulmate’s Elizabeta? Small world,” Francis grumbled. 

“You know her?”

“Yeah, who do you think gave her your number?”

“Gilbert. Are you dying?” Antonio blurted out, wringing his hands. 

“My friend, we all begin dying the minute we are born!”

“I’m serious.” The Spaniard seemed close to tears. 

Gilbert’s face shifted. “I think so,” he said softly. 

~

Time passed. All around him, people were finding their soulmates. Matthias had found his, and so had Berwald. Alfred had found comfort in a prickly Belarusian who Francis couldn’t remember the name of. Even Antonio had found someone. To Francis’ surprise, it was Lovino. 

But Francis was still seeing the world in black and white. Still he was waiting for the perfect person that would let the world burst into color.

Frankly, it was depressing. 

~

Francis was sitting on his couch, trying to set up his new computer. A full hour had passed and he still couldn’t get past the welcome screen. Sighing in resignation, he picked up his phone to call Eduard, only to find there were five missed calls from Elizabeta.  _ Why didn’t I hear the ringtone?  _ Checking the volume, he found it was on silent. When he unlocked his phone, there were five voicemails waiting for him. Francis started with the most recent ones. 

“For the love of God, pick up!!”

“Oh my God, I know you don’t like technology and crap, but pick up your damn phone!”

“Please call me back?”

“Call me back when you get this.”

Then the oldest one.

“Gilbert’s in the hospital. Holy Cross. Get there ASAP.” 

~

_ “Francis! Don’t hit him so hard.” _

_ “Shit, sorry.” _

_ “I’m fine, Toni. Not dying.” _

_ “Shut up, Gil.”  _

_ A dry chuckle. “Seriously. I’m getting better.” _

~

_ “He’s getting better!!” Elizabeta exclaimed, grabbing Francis in a hug. He returned the gesture, wrapping his arms around his friend. “The doctor says he’ll be completely cured in two months!” _

_ “That’s great, Eliza.” Francis choked out, tears coming to his eyes.  _

~

His heart had not stopped thumping erratically since he ran the four blocks to the hospital. Francis bowed his head down and ran a hand through his blonde hair-- at least Gilbert had said it was blonde. He had no idea whether it was. Antonio sat beside him, in a similar state of anguish. 

It had been an hour since he arrived at the hospital, Elizabeta’s voicemail looped in his head like a reel.  _ Gilbert’s in the hospital Gilbert’s in the hospital Gilbert’sinthehospitalGilbert’sinthehospital _

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out, just as Ludwig ran into the room, breathless. 

“What happened?” he asked, leaning on the wall, trying to catch his breath. Antonio shrugged glumly. 

Francis looked at the new message. 

**Eliza:** you guys can come in now. I'll explain everything. We're in ER rn, so just ask for Gil’s room.

The pounding on his chest began to slow and he smiled at his phone, rising from his chair slowly. 

“Where are you going, Francis?” Antonio asked, lifting his head and staring at his friend's back. 

“To see my best friend.”

~

“It wasn't even the cancer,” Elizabeta said, frowning at Gilbert's sleeping form. “A car accident.”

“I mean, I can kinda tell now, since he has a huge cast on his leg,” Antonio said, gesturing to the new attachment to Gilbert's leg. Francis hit him lightly on the arm, admonishing him. Ludwig sighed and sat down on the opposite side of the bed. 

The door opened up, and a voice laced with a British accent called out. “I’m here to check up on Mr. Beilschmidt.” Francis moved out of the way to make way for the nurse to enter, shuffling to the side and looking down. A small blonde man made his way through the group, brushing up against Francis. He frowned at his back. As he finished taking Gilbert's vitals, the nurse turned to face Elizabeta, his eyes passing over Francis’ face, making direct eye contact with him.

The Frenchman didn't even notice the change at first and resumed picking at his fingernails. The nurse frowned crossly and turned to Elizabeta. 

“We might have to keep him here a little longer, because of his pre-existing condition. But other than that, he's doing well so far.” 

“Thank you so much. What's your name?”

“Arthur Kirkland, miss.”

“Thank you, Arthur.” The nurse left, casting a final look at Francis before stalking out of the room. 

“So what exactly happened?” Ludwig asked. 

“We had an argument. He just ran out of the house with the keys. I didn’t pay attention to him and then a while later, I got a call saying he was in an accident.” She began choking up and swallowed her tears. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, Elizabeta cleared her throat. Francis put a hand on her back, on top of her hair. 

He knit his brows, looking at her brown locks.  _ It’s brown. Brown?  _ Francis drew his hand back and gasped, his heart thudding again.  _ The nurse… ? Oh God.  _

“What’s wrong, Francis?” 

“Color.” A widening of eyes. “What was the nurse’s name?!”

“Ar-Arthur Kirkland.” He nodded and dashed out the room, leaving a shocked group of friends. Running up to the nearest nurse’s station, Francis leaned forward. 

“Do you know where I can find Arthur Kirkland?”

The short-haired blonde woman pulled the phone off her ear and covered the receiver. “Are you a friend of his?”

“Er, yes.” 

“He’s checking up on someone right now. I believe he’ll be back in two minutes or so. You’re welcome to wait here for him.” Francis nodded and leaned against the wall, checking his watch every two seconds. He looked around him, taking in all the new colors. The walls were a pale yellow, and the floor a vomit looking green. He turned his nose up at the color combination and thought to himself,  _ This is what I’ve been missing?  _ The sound of footsteps from the left caught his attention and Francis turned towards it. 

His breath caught in his throat as he looked at Arthur’s eyes. Shining emerald. He took in his brilliant blonde hair, slightly scruffy, glinting in the harsh artificial light. The way his frown made his face look perfect, and Francis could barely begin to imagine what Arthur looked like when he was smiling. 

Brilliant emerald. The sparkling blonde.  _ This is what I’ve missed.  _

“What are you staring at, asshole?” Arthur asked, walking up to Francis. 

“You’re my soulmate, aren’t you?” he breathed. The woman at the desk looked up, her eyes flicking back and forth between the two men in front of her. Arthur huffed and crossed his arms.

“Just figured it out, now did you?”

“I’m s-sorry. I-I was preoccupied--” he stuttered, surprised at himself. Normally, he could seduce any woman, but in front of this man, he was a blubbering fool. 

“Your friend?” Arthur’s face softened and he uncrossed his arms. Francis nodded.”He’ll be better. All the doctors say that he’ll make a fast recovery, so don’t worry.” The woman cleared her throat, capturing Arthur's attention. She gestured to the room at the end of the hallway, jutting her head. He nodded and turned back to face Francis. “I’ll see you around.” 

“Wait, what do you mean, ‘see you around’? I’m your soulmate. Could I at least have your number?” Francis knew he sounded pathetic as he pleaded. 

To his surprise, Arthur shook his head and walked away. Francis stared in shock as that beautiful man walked away. 

_ This doesn't make sense. _

~

“Go talk to him. If you don't speak with him, you won't help yourself.”

“But he-he--”

“Can you go talk to him? Please?”

~

Francis sat in the waiting room of the hospital, leaning back on his chair, keeping a careful eye on the people streaming in and out the doors. Finally, he caught a glance of honey colored hair and his heart jumped. Composing himself, he walked up to Arthur. 

“Excuse me?”

Arthur turned around and his eyes widened when they made contact with Francis’. His face fell just as suddenly. “Yes?”

“Can I talk to you?”

“Listen, I'm tired. My shift just ended and I want nothing more than to sit on my couch and drink tea. So if you'll excuse me--”

“No. I need to talk to you.” Arthur clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes. 

“Fine.” 

Ten minutes later, the two were sitting in front of each other, each clutching their respective hot drinks in their hands. Francis began talking.

“Why did you just run away the other day?”

“I had to go attend to a patient,” he said flatly. 

“You know what I mean. You didn't even bother giving me your number or anything. I'm your soulmate!”

“No, you're not!” Arthur burst out, his thick eyebrows drawing closer together. Francis recoiled back, as if being physically affected by his words. 

“Pardon? W-what do you mean?”

“I have a soulmate. She might not bring color to my life, but I love her and she loves me.”

Shocked silence. Francis’ mind was numb. So he said the first thing that came to his mind.

“What's her name?”

“Amelia.” Arthur’s eyes filled with adoration at the mention of her name and the Frenchman’s gut twisted. 

_ Amelia? I've heard that name… where? Alfred's twin sister?! The one who moved to London on a whim?  _

“Is she Alfred Jones’ sister?” he choked out, feeling nausea build in his stomach. 

“Why, yes. Do you know Alfred?” 

“Yes. Now, you say she’s your soulmate?”

“Indeed. I love her and you see, that’s why I can’t love you,” Arthur said airily, sipping his tea. Francis’s blood began to boil.  _ So this ass bastard thinks he can just leave me like I’m trash?!  _ “So what about when she finds her soulmate?” he spat back, any sadness dissipating in his rage. 

“Well, she’ll tell him or her that she already loves me. We agreed on it.” He said this as if it was a fact of life, just as the water is blue and humans need air to survive. 

“You aren’t afraid that she’ll leave you? That she’ll fall in love with someone else, her  _ real  _ soulmate?” Francis’s voice was lowered and he could tell he hit a nerve in the Englishman at the mention of the ‘real’ soulmate. Arthur’s face began to turn red and he set down his cup angrily, the liquid sloshing around. 

“Shut the hell up. This is what you’re really like? I’m not sure who put us together, but there’s no way you’re my soulmate!”

~

**You:** we need to talk 

**You:** its about that goddamn soulmate of mine

**You:** i cant talk to toni or gil about it, so you’re the next person

**Eliza:** ookay, thanks?

**Eliza:** go ahead 

**You:** you need to promise me that if that stupid Arthur comes running to me you’ll stop me

**Eliza:** ???

**You:** I don’t need him okay??

**You:** you need to tell me that over and over again even if he begs at my feet just bc that Amelia left him

**Eliza:** I’m sorry, but that’s a horrible idea

**Eliza:** you’ve always wanted to be loved by someone, right

**Eliza:** if he comes to you, welcome him with open arms

**Eliza:** you deserve to be happy okay you’re the most loving person I know and it would kill me if you didn’t grow old with the person you love

**Eliza:** I don’t want you throwing that chance away just because you’re stubborn

**Eliza:** And I mean that in the best way possible.

**Eliza:** you’re not replying

**Eliza:** please respond?

**You:** Thank you, Eliza.

~

**You:** you didn’t tell me your sister was back

**Alfred:** ohhh sorry dude

**Alfred:** wait why did you want to know lol

**You:** Arthur?? Her “soulmate”?

**Alfred:** oh yeah him

**Alfred:** what about him

**You:** he’s my soulmate, not hers.

~

Francis sat curled up on his couch again, staring at the rain outside, listening to it patter down on the city streets. In the month that had passed since his meeting with, he had turned into a completely different person. Over and over again he asked himself,  _ Am I that unlovable? That even the one person destined for me doesn’t want me?  _

He couldn’t find an answer for the question. So he turned to a different answer. One that would make him forget the question. 

Francis began drinking again. 

Empty bottles were scattered around the floor and Francis had become a shell of the lively, jubilant man he was.  _ It’s all that Arthur’s fault. I’ve met him, what? Twice? And he’s all I think about.  _ Though somewhat sober at the time, he began to get angry.  _ Goddamn asswipe.  _

_ Who the hell does he think he is?! Coming into my life and just ruining everything? _

The ringing of his cell phone broke him out of his reverie and he snarled at it, letting it go to voicemail. The landline he barely used started ringing right after that. Francis let that go to voicemail as well. 

“Hey, dude. I don’t know if you’re feeling well, but Arthur’s at my house. Crying, I should add.  He won’t talk to me and he says he’ll only talk to you. Um, call me back, please? If not for this, then just so I know you’re okay. Bye.”

The familiar fluttering in his heart started up again at the mention of Arthur's name, though coupled with discomfort. 

_ “If he comes to you, welcome him with open arms.” _

_ Then I'll do just that. _

~

Francis stood in the foyer of the apartment Alfred (and Natalya-- that was her name, apparently) shared. He shook off his umbrella and set it to the side. Alfred was in front of him, gesturing for Francis to take off his shoes. He complied and then followed Alfred to the bedrooms. 

Alfred pointed to a door at the very end of the hallway. “He's in there. Take your time, dude, 'kay?” He nodded and placed a hand on the door when Alfred tacked on something else to the end of his sentence, almost like an afterthought. “Glad to see you're doing okay.”

Francis muttered under his breath. “Yeah.” Alfred nodded and disappeared down the hallway. He pushed open the door and was met with a concerning sight. 

A lump was curled up underneath a blanket, shaking uncontrollably. Francis approached tentatively and put a hand where Arthur’s head was. He immediately shot up, the epitome of viciousness. 

“Get out,” he hissed, narrowing his eyes. “Oh. It’s you.” 

“It’s me. What happened? I have a feeling I know what it is, but just tell me anyways.”Arthur sat up fully, the blanket draping over his legs. His eyes were red and puffy, the result of crying for hours on end. The skin on his face was splotchy as well. Francis bit his lip as he took in the sight.

“What happened?” he asked softly, Elizabeta’s words still circulating in his head.  _ Welcome him with open arms… Even if he hurt me?  _ He paused.  _ Yes. I’ll do it. I’ll be strong.  _

Tears began streaming down Arthur’s cheeks and he hung his head down. “Amelia found her soulmate,” he sobbed. “Even after we agreed to stay together, she left me.” Francis sat down next to him and put a hand on his back. “She just sat me down and said, ‘Artie. I found my soulmate.’ And I couldn’t hear anything else after that.” His entire body shook violently with sobs and Francis found he couldn’t do anything but let his soulmate bleed out the sadness from his eyes. 

~

“Francis! You cleaned the apartment?” Elizabeta exclaimed, walking into the living room, finding it to be clean of any beer bottles or any grime. Francis himself looked happy and seemed to have taken a shower. She took in the sleeping form on the couch and squealed. “Is that Arthur?!”

“Shh,” he hissed, placing his forefinger on his lips. “He’s still sleeping! And before you ask, I slept in my room and he slept here.”

“Aw.” Elizabeta’s face fell. “Wait, wait. So what happened? Is everything okay?”

Francis gazed adoringly at Arthur’s sleeping face. “It’ll take time, but everything’ll work out.”

**Author's Note:**

> There will probably be a pt. 2 to the PruHun, a Spamano one, mayybe Amebel, A SuFin one and a Dennor one.


End file.
